I walk! and Wonder

Update for Week of July 17

Yesterday, I walked around Patel Plaza in Decatur. From afar, I looked like any able-bodied person. To my overwhelming surprise, at my Monday, July 17th appointment, I was freed from my foot cast and given permission to walk! I expected my ankle would need a scooter or other walking contraption. But, according to my surgeon, I can be fully weight-bearing on my right leg. Right now, only loose-fitting shoes hold my swollen foot and ankle. Meanwhile, my wheelchair sits at home. Without it, I can blend into the background in a crowd.

Up close, you can see the wound on my right leg where my ankle was sewn together. The scar has the intriguing shape of a closed eye with stitches as eyelashes. Walking up the toiletry aisle at Patel Brothers, I considered buying henna to make fun temporary tattoos on my wound scars. I could draw an amusing face, a butterfly, or a flower wreath once some swelling is reduced.   Since I am not taking pain medications or dangerous drugs, I can also drive. The sudden jolt in autonomy has me both appreciating independence and adjusting to some internal changes.

I no longer need a chaperone to leave the house! Though I am no fan of driving, I appreciate flexing my American (car-based) independence. After being driven around and needing accessibility infrastructure, I have a new perspective on the importance of access, curb cuts, and well-placed entryways. If you have ever walked across a smoking Hot-lanta asphalt in the middle of the day, you will appreciate the relief of awnings and shade. For all my car-based excursions, my temporary handicapped parking permit has been a blessing. As my body adjusts to the summer weather, I have been walking through errands in a heat daze with a little limp.

Though I have started driving again, I remember why I hate it. Driving is dangerous for motorists, pedestrians, and cyclists. When in their cars, most people fall into little bubbles within their minds. Car-based design is wasteful and isolating. Atlanta is incredibly spread out. I wonder what I would have done if I did not have a volunteer crew of drivers. Driving here requires a different attitude. This city is full of out-of-towners and non-drivers who moved here and had to get hip to driving. Of my many volunteer chauffeurs, there is only one I would like to drive me again. Many SUV drivers appear indifferent to stop signs and pedestrians. To make going places here more challenging, Atlanta also suffers from municipal ineptitude. The city pothole crew plays a never-ending Whack-a-Mole game with our street. As a result, driving in Atlanta is often about being appropriately attentive. Near my home, the 285 loop and access to Interstate 85 N requires a series of merges and lane changes. The transition requires attention and care. Post-accident, I find myself very attentive. I hope the other drivers are also accident averse.

It has only been ten days since my right wrist was freed from its brace. I welcome coming back to doing most things on my own. In Japan, I developed an appreciation for the rhythms of mundane tasks. Bathing, cleaning, and laundry still take twice as long as before my accident. I sense the urgent pull of my culture; faster, faster! Do all things quickly. Yet, the compulsion to hurry up does not push me any longer. I feel I have experienced a shift in my heart. I am Ok with going a bit slower. I have adjusted to methodically doing errands. I remember that before I could bike, I used to walk. Before I could walk, I am told, I crawled. The adjustment to enjoying the slower pace is welcome. It feels subversive. I will wait another week or two before I get my bike from storage. Until then, I am still focusing on all the kinds of healing that I haven't been able to do, like soaking and swimming bathing.

This morning's sun peaked through the curtains onto my face. The light illuminates skin that still carries the mark of road rash. Looking out the window, I see a day I can participate in. The road to full recovery requires healthy and slow movements. My house is in disarray as I pack for the weekend away. I prepare for a cabin in the Georgia mountains. I will have a slow soak in a hot tub. From there, I will appreciate the starry sky and the luxury of leisure. I feel blessed to enjoy this slow-style dance to health.